


Again

by blasphemia



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Oikawa has OCD, Oikawa has sleeping issues (like the rest of us), They're still in high school and all that, the only 'action' going on in the fic is like a tiny smooch so idek if the rating is right ¯|_(ツ)_/¯
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 17:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7583881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blasphemia/pseuds/blasphemia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are certain things Oikawa just have to do and there are days where it's harder for him to do so. </p><p>Luckily, Iwaizumi is there to pick him up when he goes overboard, even in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Again

**Author's Note:**

> I thought up and wrote this last night/this morning at 4-6 am and then i edited and added the lil thing in the end today.  
> I do not have OCD and I'm not claiming to be an expert. It's not really the focus of the fic and they're not really working through, it, it's more about acceptance and support, I guess. Understanding, maybe, even. Idek. If I've done anything wrong, feel free to tell me, ofc.  
> I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing. <3

 

It was a realistic goal. Fifty serves hitting right in a row and then he could stretch, then he could shower, then he could go home.

It was a realistic goal, but today wasn’t his day and Oikawa always seemed to mess up almost halfway through. At one point, he had been at _forty-eight_ , but then the ball had hit at almost a meter off from where he had planned – it wasn’t out, far from, but it wasn’t satisfactory. After walking to the ball crate and grabbing a new one with his right hand, he took a deep breath and started over (again).

At thirty-two, he heard the doors to the gym open mid-serve, but to Oikawa’s immense relief, the ball still hit the corner he had aimed for with a resounding bump. He didn’t need to look up to know that it was Iwaizumi, didn’t even need to listen carefully to make out his steps – the strong, determined and forceful stride belonging to his vice captain, his best friend, his Hajime. He knew it was him, because who else would come pick him up there at night over and over? When he looked up, he was confirmed with the view of his best friend walking into the room, coming to pick him up (again).

“Iwa-chan, good evening!” He said, surprised at how easy it was to force out the casual tone he normally had. Iwaizumi didn’t look amused when he put a hand on his hip, stopping his stride when he had come into view and looking like he was already about to smack Oikawa before he had even done anything – on nights like these, Iwaizumi being angry with him without reason, even if it was playful, wasn’t something he really enjoyed. Normally, Oikawa didn’t mind, because Iwaizumi yelling at him meant Iwaizumi looking at him and Iwaizumi insulting him – both the sarcastic ones and the ones he needed to hear – meant Iwaizumi noticing him. But right now, Oikawa was tired and his knee was already slightly burning up. He hoped it was just lactic acid, but Oikawa had made enough mistakes with overworking his knee to know that he should take it easy whenever something was up with it, however small it was. He didn’t want to risk having to take a break from his training if he got injured (again).

“Good evening?” Iwaizumi replied, but mouthed it as a question, once again moving his legs, this time walking over towards Oikawa in a higher pace. He didn’t stop until he stood right next to Oikawa and when he grabbed Oikawa’s arm, his hand was cold. “Do you know what time it is?” he asked, sounding more angry than just their usual banter – something was definitely up, but before Oikawa could make up any ideas in his mind, Iwaizumi gave up enough information for Oikawa figure it out. “It’s 3:45 in the night, you dumb bastard!” Iwaizumi said, raising his voice, so it almost bordered to a yell.

“Oops?” Oikawa said, shrugging and moving his arm out of Iwaizumi’s grip before he decided to tighten it. He hadn’t realised that it had become _that_ late, since the fluorescence light made the gym look the same at all times of the day, but when he did look out the windows, all he saw was black.

“Oops,” Iwaizumi repeated his word, staring at him as if he couldn't believe what he just heard. “ _Oops,_ that’s all you have to say for yourself?” He asked, shaking his head in disbelief. Oikawa chuckled, grabbing for another ball in the basket, as he turned away to stifle a yawn, hide it from his friend.

“Iwa-chan, you sound like my mom again,” Oikawa said, rolling his eyes. Ironically, his mom did _not_ sound like that, instead opting for an upbringing that made Oikawa independent and strong – Oikawa did see himself as strong, but ironically he had just seemed to put his dependency on his poor childhood friend instead.

And that was why Iwaizumi came to pick Oikawa up at three forty-five in the morning. And it warmed Oikawa’s heart, knowing how Iwaizumi had no trouble sleeping at night, but _did_ have trouble waking up in the morning if he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. Problem was, Oikawa still needed 18 serves down and while he doubted that Iwaizumi’s usual threats about dragging him home would become a reality, he didn’t doubt that he would force Oikawa to go home, even if he thought it was for the best of him.

But Oikawa _needed_ 18 more serves and when he stepped back, got in the right position and discreetly took a glance in Iwaizumi’s direction, the other boy had crossed his arms across his chest and was staring down Oikawa impatiently. Except, he wasn’t exactly stopping Oikawa. Lifting an eyebrow, as if to ask if Iwaizumi _really_ didn’t have any protests, Oikawa went back to focusing on his serve, taking a step back to get in position and then threw the ball in the air (again).

 

At forty-three, the ball basket was empty and Oikawa went to pick up the balls at the other side of the net. Iwaizumi followed quietly, not saying anything but helping Oikawa with picking up the balls, putting them in the basket. When Oikawa picked up the last one, he cleared his throat for attention and Oikawa turned to look at him, confused as to why he hadn’t started yelling at him or just went home himself already.

“How many left?” he asked quietly, sounding surprisingly patient, understanding even. Oikawa lifted an eyebrow and it took him a few moments to understand what he was talking about. Coughing discreetly, Oikawa turned to look away, surprised and a bit ashamed that Iwaizumi knew.

“Seven,” he mumbled, seeing Iwaizumi nod, just once, in the corner of his eye.

“Okay,” Iwaizumi answered quietly, once again crossing his arms and watching Oikawa patiently. Lifting the ball in one hand, the slight dampness of his hand and the tips of his fingers being the only things holding the ball from falling under his hand, he stared at the other end of the court, choosing where to aim the serve for and then taking a step back again, getting in position (again).

 

When the ball hit the floor the last time, it was a tiny bit off. Just a bit, not enough to redo the whole thing _fifty fucking times_ but enough to annoy him. Every time he finished it, especially on nights where it took so many tries, Oikawa instantly felt stupid for thinking that somehow serving without major mistakes for exactly fifty times would actually make him better than other, regular training schedules. Repetition is key, but there’s a line to everything. Oikawa knew he had crossed it when he looked at the time on his phone while changing into his long sleeved tracksuit and he saw that it was now 4:18 in the morning.

“You’re not going to shower?” Iwaizumi asked when he came out and he shook his head softly.

“I’ll do it at home,” he said, even though he knew he probably wasn’t going to – even Iwaizumi probably knew, since they were neighbours and there was a high chance that he could _hear_ the water running from his home. But Oikawa had to get up and shower before school in about two hours and he _was_ tired from training all day, all evening, all night (again).

The cold evening – no, _night –_ air bit in his cheeks the moment they went outside and were met by a cool breeze. Oikawa squinted his eyes, waiting for them to get used to the darkness of the night so he could see the pavement in front of him, make out the cracks so he knew where not to step. Iwaizumi shivered visibly and stifled a yawn in the hook of his elbow, reminding Oikawa that _he_ had kept him up all night because _he_ had stupid rules to follow and _he_ couldn’t do it right the first time. Staring at Iwaizumi blink slowly, Oikawa was met with an even colder realization than the chilly pre-dawn air; it was his fault that Iwaizumi was up at this hour.

“Did something go wrong?” Iwaizumi asked, his brows furrowing in concern from reading Oikawa’s expression. Of course he’d expect Oikawa to be stressed about his own stupid issues and ignore the fact that lack of sleep was just as bad for himself as for Oikawa – probably even worse. Oikawa had laughed at the time Iwaizumi had been sent to the principal’s office for falling asleep in class, but he still felt terribly bad about it too. Iwaizumi needed sleep – Oikawa could easily go without it for a day or sleep for only a few hours and then catch up with an afternoon nap the next day (again) – he was used to it.

“I just realised that you won’t be able to get your beauty sleep, Iwa-chan! How are you ever going to catch up with me now?” Oikawa joked, feigning off whatever feeling Iwaizumi had read in his face with fake disconcert. Iwaizumi’s face instantly changed into annoyance as he pushed Oikawa’s shoulder softly, rolling his eyes.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, shaking his head as they walked down the street towards their houses in a slower than usual pace. Oikawa didn’t mind it at all, because he had to look down actively to know that he didn’t step on the cracks in the sidewalk and his leg was still feeling a bit weird, but not aching enough for him to be sure that it was his injury acting up, so he still hoped that it was just a build up of lactic acid or something equally harmless.

Iwaizumi stopped in his tracks in the middle of the street, grabbing the strap of Oikawa’s bag when he didn’t stop exactly the same second and hitching Oikawa back next to him. Looking up in surprise, Oikawa was once again met by Iwaizumi’s angry face and once again he had no idea why. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Oikawa forced out a little smile that only made Iwaizumi look even more annoyed and he let go of him, taking a step back. Oikawa instantly missed the heat and turned to Iwaizumi with a tiny pout and an expression as confused as ever.

“What now, Iwa-chan? I’m tired,” he said impatiently, resting his body weight on one side so his knee hurt a bit less.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Iwaizumi asked, and Oikawa opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off before he could say yes. “Your knee,” Iwaizumi explained and Oikawa’s already open mouth fell completely agape as he stared at Iwaizumi, who for a second looked proud of taking Oikawa by surprise, but his expression turned back to annoyance instantly. Of course, Oikawa couldn’t hide it from Iwaizumi. If Oikawa could recognise Iwaizumi by the sound of his walk, if Oikawa could read his expression easier than he could read a children’s book, Iwaizumi had to be able to see through Oikawa’s façade as well. That was the problem with knowing each other so well – it worked both ways.

“It’s not bad,” Oikawa said sincerely, staring Iwaizumi in the eyes to show that he wasn’t lying. Of course, there was still a chance that it wasn’t just a simple ache that would go over the next day, but he had no reason to worry about that when he couldn’t do anything about it.

But, unlike Oikawa’s look at the situation, apparently Iwaizumi did think that he could do something about it, and he stepped closer and kneeled down in the middle of the road, grabbing Oikawa’s leg with both arms and slowly feeling his knee, his eyes fixed on Oikawa’s face – Oikawa really hoped that Iwaizumi would just mistake the blush in his cheeks as a reaction to the cold and not the touch.

“Tell me if it hurts,” Iwaizumi said quietly, his soothing tone contrasting the harsh anger from before. Oikawa nodded, biting his lip as he stared at Iwaizumi’s fingers that slowly started massaging the slightly achy areas on each side of his kneecap. Whenever Oikawa was about to wince, Iwaizumi somehow seemed to notice before he actually did it and stopped before it actually got painful, quietly smoothing out the pain and leaving him with a warm, but nice sensation in his knee when Iwaizumi finally stood up.

“Thank you,” Oikawa breathed out, barely audible, and for a second he wondered if Iwaizumi heard, but he was answered with a tiny smile and a shrug from him as they started walking towards their homes again. This time it was Oikawa who had to hold back a yawn, using the back of his hand as he shook his head as if it would make the tiredness go away.

“Tomorrow is our day off,” Iwaizumi said and Oikawa nodded, pressing his lips together. Of course he knew. He wouldn’t have been _that_ keen on doing fifty serves perfectly if it wasn’t because he couldn’t work tomorrow – he felt more obliged on Sundays and he knew why – it was _because_ it was his day off. Oikawa looked down, still embarrassed about having to let Iwaizumi see him like that. He didn’t always understand why, but even though he was so set up on doing it right every day, following the rule almost as a ritual, he was still aware of the absurdity of it, of all his other rules too – fixing his hair three times before walking out the door in the morning, skipping over the cracks in the pavement on the street in front of the school and putting his books in the right place, the right order, after he had done his homework.

“You should get some sleep,” Iwaizumi said quietly, his voice stripped completely of judgment, anger or annoyance. He was looking at Oikawa with nothing but warmth, care and concern. Oikawa gave him his brightest smile and nodded, adding a ‘you should too,’ before turning to look up at his house with a tiny sigh. Even though he felt slightly dizzy, he was wide awake and he was pretty sure that he couldn’t sleep even if he tried to. He began thinking of that last serve, wondering if he should have done it over instead of just accepting it like that. He knew Iwaizumi wouldn’t let him and even though the thought made him a bit uncomfortable, there was also a huge relief in having one person to tell him when he’d done enough. Iwaizumi had always been the one to stop him from overworking himself – at least when he could – and whenever everyone else were complimenting Oikawa for working hard, doing his best, Iwaizumi was the one to tell him ‘don’t worry, we’ll try again tomorrow’, forcing him to stop when his workouts had bordered to the late hours – or early ones, like today – and making sure that he would still be able to work out the next day.

“If you want to, you can sleep at my place,” Oikawa offered quietly, grabbing for Iwaizumi’s shirt and looking down at the ground between them, unwilling to let him go just yet. He knew that Iwaizumi probably was aware that he had offered it for his own sake, not Iwaizumi’s but to his relief, he wasn’t called out. Instead, Iwaizumi grabbed the hand he had reached out and pulled Oikawa’s fingers away from the shirt he was wearing, instead interlacing their fingers.

“Okay,” Iwaizumi replied, looking down at their hands when Oikawa looked up, but then meeting Oikawa’s eyes with a warm smile. “Okay,” he repeated, as if to make sure that Oikawa heard. But none of them made any indication of wanting to go inside, instead standing in the street, fingers still interlaced.

“Thank you,” Oikawa said, looking down at their hands, wondering if this was breaking the rules. Iwaizumi wasn’t shying away from his touch and Oikawa wasn’t playing it off with a joke and _none of them was stopping it._

“For what?” Iwaizumi asked (stupidly – maybe he wasn’t used to Oikawa thanking him enough). _For picking me up,_ Oikawa thought. For knowing him so well, for being there for him, for letting him finish and for staying with him. Oikawa shrugged, but didn’t say it out loud. He looked down at their hands when Iwaizumi’s thumb slid softly across the back of his hand, and when he looked up again, Iwaizumi was smiling warmly at him, leaning in a bit further so they were even closer than normally. They were definitely breaking the rules, and for once he was enjoying the thrill of it instead of wondering about the consequences – for once, he actually wasn’t worried about the consequences. Instead, he leaned in, challenging the ruleset even further, and Iwaizumi did the same.

Their lips met and breaking the rules had never felt so _right_ to him. The magic sort of disappeared when their noses got in the way and their teeth clacked because of it. Chuckling, Iwaizumi pulled back his face a bit and smiled at Oikawa.

“I can’t believe we messed up our first kiss,” Oikawa said, joking to loosen up the tension. But for once, he wasn’t freaking out about it, he wasn’t panicking about doing it wrong, because it didn’t _feel_ wrong.

“Don’t worry, we can do it again,” Iwaizumi said, leaning in again, this time with his head tilted so their noses wouldn’t be in the way, kissing Oikawa with new fervour. Oikawa chuckled into the kiss, despite knowing that it probably wasn’t the most romantic thing to do – it wasn’t the first rule he broke that night without caring. And he didn’t mind doing it wrong, because they could try again. Again and again and again. It didn’t have to be perfect and it probably never would – but with Iwaizumi right next to him, it felt pretty damn close. When Oikawa leaned in to kiss Iwaizumi again, he wasn’t worried about doing it wrong or messing up – because he knew that they could do it over if they needed (again).


End file.
